


All Dolled Up

by furchte_die_schildkrote



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Body Horror, Canon-typical mentions of skinning people, Canonically bad fake cockney accents, Captivity, Dehumanization, Dollification, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Finger Sucking, M/M, Nikola turns Tim into the Circus's communal sex toy and gives him a cunt, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Slave Training - Masculine Male Slave is Noncon Body-Modded to Have a Vagina and Then Fucked, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28498785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furchte_die_schildkrote/pseuds/furchte_die_schildkrote
Summary: Nikola thinks toys are more fun when they are shared. She invites Breekon and Hope to come break in the Circus's newest toy.
Relationships: Breekon & Hope/Tim Stoker
Comments: 7
Kudos: 66
Collections: Bulletproof 20/21





	All Dolled Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeTaverny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeTaverny/gifts).



> Quick primer! Our baddies here are associated with The Stranger, the Eldritch manifestation of fear related to (among other things) the uncanny valley, identity issues, and spooky mannequins. Tim Stoker is a paranormal researcher at the Magnus Institute who was once full of joy, but is now bitter, angry, and inescapably bound against his will to an evil Eldritch power. His younger brother fell victim to the Stranger a few years prior, after Nikola killed him and stole his skin.

Tim groggily awoke to find himself laying naked, strapped down on an icy metal table. His eyes snapped open in panic. His stomach dropped when he saw the jointed mannequin in ringmaster’s dress that loomed above him, a wicked grin painted across its face.

“Oh good! You’re awake,” it exclaimed in a ringing, sing-song woman’s voice. “I had worried Breekon and Hope might have gone a bit heavy with the chloroform.”

Nikola. Tim’s memory drifted to all the mentions of her across statements, to what happens to people wind up in the Circus’s clutches. To what happened to Danny. His gaze landed on a toolbox sitting next to him on a table, and he jolted up, straining so hard against the leather straps that they dug into his skin.

“Now, Tim,” it scolded. “Don’t pull so hard. You’ll hurt yourself.”

It knew his name. She knew his name.

“It is Tim, right? That’s what Elias said. Oh, I do hope we grabbed the right one.”

“Elias? Elias did this?” Tim croaked out, unsure whether to be disbelieving or unsurprised. Elias was an evil bastard, sure, but this—whatever this was—was extreme even by his standards.

“Oh, yes! Elias gave you to us in exchange for leaving your Archivist alone. We were done with the Archivist anyways, now that we found another skin that will work just fine in the Unknowing, but dear Elias doesn’t need to know that.”

“Elias can’t—no. I’m not his,” Tim said bitterly. He hadn’t been his own for a long while, but like hell was he about to let the implication that this was Elias’ natural right hang in the air uncontested.

“Not anymore! Not the Eye’s, either, which should be a treat for you. Elias tells me you never really took to your old master.”

“I hate to tell you this, but the problem wasn’t that I was trapped by the wrong evil, unknowable monster,” Tim snarled.

Nikola simply laughed, her face shifting slightly each time Tim blinked. A sick feeling churned in his stomach. This was really it, wasn’t it? He had known his days were numbered since he realized how deeply the Institute had its hooks in him. He had hoped to go down fighting, but apparently that was too much to wish for.

“Let me out of these straps if you want something to laugh at. I’ll tear you all apart, piece by piece—just like you did Danny.”

“Pardon? Danny?” Nikola asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Covent Garden. Four years ago,” Tim said. “He was my brother.”

“Oh, dear! You don’t really think I remember every guest I peel?”

Tim glared at her, barely managing to suppress the icy rage roiling up inside him. 

“Oh, no. You do, poor thing,” Nikola mewled, drawing her hands to her mouth in a condescendingly exaggerated display of pity. She playfully pinched his cheek as if he were some precocious toddler. Tim twisted away from the cool, smooth touch of plastic, and the pinch turned sharp and cruel, making Tim cry out in pain.

“You sillies all think you’re so special, don’t you? That there’s a ‘You’ way down deep inside, when really way down deep you wouldn’t be able to tell one tangle of meat and bones and electricity from another. I suppose the faces are a bit distinctive, but they’re so easy to peel off that it hardly matters. Maybe I do remember your brother. Maybe I could tell you exactly how loudly he screamed as the knife glided under his skin…until he stopped. What difference would it make? Every bit of that thing you called ‘Danny’ has been _unraveled_. Recycled, you could say.”

A well of disgust boiled up inside him. The thought of Danny’s death had always been painful, but now, lying strapped to the cold metal table and staring helplessly at Nikola’s cruel, plastic smile, he understood Danny’s last moments in a more intimate way than he could have ever imagined.

“Lucky for _you_ , what we have in mind for you will work better with your skin left right where it is.”

“You’re not going to…?” Tim trails off.

“Peel you? Heavens, no! You’re the entertainment. Stress relief, you might say—or a shiny new toy! When Elias first made his offer, I admit I was a bit underwhelmed. What was I meant to do with you? I figured peeling was always an option, but that is just so uninspired. But _then_ I saw you, and I thought to myself, _‘Oh, what a doll!’_ And that’s when it hit me! He would make the perfect doll. Fix him up a bit, give him some new programming, install some frankly ingenious new features, and voilà! You know, I don’t think any of our unfriendly compatriots have got their very own, flesh-and-blood sex toy on premises.”

“You can’t—”

“We most certainly can, dear,” she laughed. “ In fact, the work is already done. The physical work, at least. Installing all the physical enhancements, adding a cunt, making some necessary aesthetic rearrangements—all taken care of, although I suspect your behavior might need some fine tuning before you’re properly up to task. Why don’t we see just how much work is ahead of us? I’m going to undo these straps, and you just...do what comes naturally. That sounds easy enough, right?.”

Tim only glared at her in response as she dramatically fussed with the straps holding him down. As he watched, he realized that the worm scars were gone from his skin. _His skin looked as smooth as plastic_ , Tim thought with a shudder.

Tim tensed as the final strap was undone. It was a trap. Obviously. But what else could he do but run? He lunged towards the closed door. Nikola pulled out some sort of remote, and as soon as she clicked it, his arms and legs froze mid-step, sending him crashing to the floor. A silent scream stuck in his throat as he tumbled down, his whole body frozen with only his eyes still able to move.

As his eyes darted around helplessly while the rest of him stayed fixed rigidly in place, Nikola laughed, her voice full of savage delight. 

“Oh, wonderful! That eye thing is just as creepy as I had hoped. I must say, that was one of my more ingenious upgrades. Subtlety is so underrated these days. The new cunt is likely to be more popular, but I can’t claim that was especially inspired.”

Tim’s stomach churned as her words sunk in. She kept chattering on, but whatever she said was drowned out by a deafening, droning hum in his ears. Something had been done to him, and he was barely beginning to understand the enormity of what that entailed. He looked at her with pleading, horrified, rage-filled eyes as he tried for a scream that never came.

“What’s that, dear?” Nikola feigned curiosity as Tim sat frozen and silent—gleeful malice etched into every inch of her plastic face. “Are you not happy with your improvements? You watchers are such an ungrateful lot. Lucky for you, you’ll be having some guests soon to help with your awful manners.”

Nikola sat Tim’s stiff body up against the wall, his legs splayed out in front of him and arms held rigid at his side.

“You see, Tim, turning off your voice, adding a fun new hole, the fluids, the little vibrating bits—those are all easy additions. ‘Set it, and forget it,’ as they say. Your new programming will be a bit different. We could leave you frozen like this to keep you cooperative, but I think the most fun dolls are the ones that can walk and talk all on their own! So if we want you to be your best, you’ll have to learn to behave and be a good toy, and that will take practice. Lots of it.”

A dull, thudding knock rang out at the door.

“Perfect timing! Come on in, boys,” Nikola called out. “Isn’t this lovely, Tim? These two gentlemen are here to help break you in.”

Two massive, lumbering men walked into the room wearing nondescript workman’s overalls. Besides their size and the heavy, grey aura that seemed to cling to them, they looked oddly normal. Unremarkable. Unsettlingly generic. Tim immediately recognized them as Breekon and Hope, and as soon as they began to speak, their piss-poor attempts at a Cockney accent confirmed his suspicion.

“Now, Miss Orsinov. We didn’t say we’d be gentlemen.”

“I should hope not! This one’ll need a firm hand,” Nikola said, giving Tim’s shoulder a playfully rough shake. 

“Here’s the remote,” she said, walking towards the two men. “This knob adjusts his volume; he’s on mute right now. This button here will turn on internal vibrations—complete with eight different settings! This one wets his cunt, and this one does his ass, though that should also come automatically with a little stimulation. Oh, that button adjusts the temperature of—you know what, I’ll just leave you both to play around with it. Have fun! Take very good care of him, won’t you?”

Nikola turned back towards Tim one last time, a hand pressed to her heart in an insulting display of affection, and walked out the door.

The two men leered down at Tim before looking to the remote and then each other.

“You know, Hope? I never would have thought a sweet grumble ‘n grunt needed this many bells and whistles.”

“Like they say. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

“This one might need fixing once we’re done with him, though.”

They both laughed.

“So, toy,” said Breekon, crouching down in front of Tim. “I hear you’ve got a cherry for us to pop.”

Tim glared at the men as he sat frozen in his own body, hoping that the hateful disgust in his eyes might mask the helpless terror coursing through him.

“Hey, you in there?” the man asked, waving a hand in front of Tim’s motionless face. “I thought Nikola said it was a live one.”

“It’s still stuck. Got to turn it on first,” said Hope, fiddling with the remote until felt his muscles and voice release.

Tim did not allow himself even a moment of relief. He lunged up at Hope to grab at the remote. Breekon grabbed him by the waist and dragged him back to the floor, all the while Tim kicked and clawed against his grip, desperately grasping for his one shot at freedom. He did not know what he would do once he had the remote; all he knew was that without it, he did not stand a chance. He wriggled just enough to twist free and stagger to his feet.

A click came from the remote, and an electric sensation exploded between his legs. Tim cried out, and his knees buckled as the sensation shifted to a dull yet all-consuming ache.

Hope stood over him, making a low, rumbling imitation of a laugh that made Tim doubt the man had ever heard a proper laugh in his life. Breekon began groping at him from behind, roughly toying with his nipples with one hand while the other moved lower and lower. Tim gasped as he was pulled tight against the bulk of the man’s torso, his bare back pressed up against the rough fabric of the overalls covering Breekon’s too-solid chest. Breekon thrust his clothed erection against Tim’s naked arse, and Tim could not bring himself to fight back.

“Turned you on right well, I see,” Hope said, wrapping a fist around Tim’s leaking cock. Tim gasped, and in spite of himself, found his hips grinding back into the hard length pressing against his arse. 

_This wasn’t him_ , Tim tried to reassure himself as he desperately rutted back against the monster about to fuck him. _They_ did this to him. They took his body and warped it into something artificial, a toy designed for their own pleasures. This wasn’t him, even if some foreign part of him was starved for it, begging to be fucked senseless, used like an object. 

Tim’s head lolled back as Breekon slipped a pair of fingers into his new, dripping wet cunt. He rolled his hips into the intrusion and let out a downright pornographic noise. The fingers were large and blunt, heavier and smoother than fingers should be. Breekon roughly and casually jabbed around inside of him, more interested in exploring previously untouched flesh than in providing Tim with any pleasure, but it didn’t matter. Just having something inside him felt amazing, even if it wasn’t enough to sate the desperate hunger between his legs. Even if part of him knew he needed more.

His hips rocking against Breekon’s hand, desperately trying to take the fingers deeper, Tim almost missed whatever hooks the Eye had had in him. At least it never made him _want_ what it did to him. It trapped him and tied him down to that fucking institute, but at least he was allowed to hate it.

“Would you look at that?” Hope mused, groping at his own cock over his clothing as he watched Tim fuck himself on Breekon’s fingers. “He’s a right proper whore, he is.” 

Tim held back a whine as Breekon pulled his fingers out, leaving his cunt painfully empty. A moment later, they pushed inside his mouth, still wet with Tim’s own fluids. As the fingers pressed down against his tongue, Tim’s mouth began sucking around them as if by reflex. He tried to bite down, but instead his tongue swirled around each rubbery finger—tasteless aside from the taste of himself on them—gently coaxing them further and further, his head bobbing obscenely along their length. Tim shuddered to think what would happen if something else were stuck in his mouth.

“That’s a good little slut. Clean me up,” Breekon said as Tim moaned softly around his fingers. “Look at you. Downright gagging for it.”

Breekon pulled his fingers from Tim’s mouth, wiping them dry on Tim’s bare skin. A sharp push to his back sent Tim falling down on all fours, and another pressed his head down towards the floor, forcing his ass in the air. A rough pull at his hair forced his head back so he could just see Breekon behind him.

“I got your package for you here, toy,” Breekon said, grabbing at the bulge in his trousers. Tim barely managed to roll his eyes before Breekon dropped his overalls and pulled out his cock, as inhumanly large as the rest of him. A knot twisted in his stomach as he watched it throb and twitch, even as his body ached at the sight.

Breekon breached him with one quick push, and Tim’s every nerve lit up with sharp, tearing pain and burning pleasure. Tim let out a high-pitched gasp as he was stretched open around Breekon’s girth. There was an unnatural stiffness to it, more like a dildo than a flesh-and-blood cock, but even as a small part of Tim shuddered at the strange inhumanity of the thing inside him, his body cried out for more. He could feel himself yielding inch by inch until Breekon was fully seated inside him.

“Impressive, innit?” Breekon asked, the smirk audible in his voice as Tim struggled to catch his breath.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Tim managed to say through gritted teeth. 

Breekon answered with a grunt and a sharp, punishing snap of his hips that sent Tim lurching forward. A few slower, more tantalizing thrusts followed, and Tim moaned at the slow slide as Breekon pulled almost entirely out before pressing back inside. The pain faded, eclipsed by pleasure as Breekon’s cock dragged in and out of him. As Breekon’s movements sped up and settled into a steady rhythm, Tim realized his hips were rolling back to match it.

After a few minutes, Breekon stilled. 

“What do we think we’re doing, Hope?” Breekon asked.“Having a quick ‘n dirty J. Arthur when the slut here’s got two empty holes?” 

He grabbed a fistful of hair at the top of Tim’s scalp and yanked hard, forcing Tim’s face upwards and his mouth agape. Above him, he saw Hope, cock in hand, carefully considering him.

“Could even find some extra room in its cunt. It’s a damn sweet fit.”

Tim panicked as Breekon’s words sank in. 

“Please! No, I can’t—” Tim pleaded until Hope pulled the remote out of his shirt pocket and clicked a button, making Tim’s pleas stick in his throat.

“Got the toy in a proper two and eight, you have,” Hope scolded Breekon. “Sweet as its cunt may be, its arse is begging for a good fuck.”

Tim squirmed against Breekon’s grip as they manhandled Tim up to straddle Breekon’s lap. The sound of a quick spit and the wet glide Hope slicking up his cock were the only warning he got before he felt the hot, blunt head pressing up against his hole.

Tim braced himself, but the agony he expected never came. Between the lack of prep and Hope’s sheer size, it should have split him open. Instead, he could feel his body yielding to the intrusion, stretching as Hope pressed deeper and deeper into his arse. _He was built for this now_ , Tim realized with disgust as he took Hope to the hilt. There was still pain—bright, sharp jolts of it breaking through an all-consuming ache—but that only heightened the waves of sensation wracking his body.

For a moment the two held still as Tim frantically gasped and struggled, unable to adjust to the pressure. He was filled and engulfed at the same time, wedged between the two men seated inside him. His mind narrowed. He needed them out. He needed more. He needed them to move. _Anything_. 

Hope was the first to move. It was slow and tentative, but even that slight shift inside him was enough to send him falling forward, bracing himself against Breekon’s chest in a motion that felt perversely intimate, like an obscene mockery of vulnerability between lovers. As Hope’s thrusts grew stronger, Tim was forced to rock with them, working Breekon’s cock at the same time, all while Hope’s massive hands groped at him all over. 

Finally, the mounting tension broke and jolts of electric pleasure ran through Tim’s body, sending spasming and convulsing around the cocks he was mounted on until he had ridden out the last remnants of his orgasm. Tim was left boneless, an over-sensitive mess lurching forward and back with each thrust.

“Filthy little slut. Made a right mess of yourself, you have,” Breekon said, looking down at him with an unsettling mix of affection and cruelty.

Hope’s hand drifted over and scooped up the mess of come Tim had spilled across his own stomach, feeding it into Tim’s open, gasping mouth. Just as before, Tim’s mouth closed around the fingers on reflex and sucked hard. Needily. Desperately.

“Good toy,” Hope chuckled before pushing another finger inside Tim’s mouth, stretching it uncomfortably wide as he fucked Tim’s arse open from behind. “That hungry to have all your holes stuffed full?”

In spite of himself, Tim moaned in response as Breekon thrust up in rhythm with Hope. As they both moved inside him, the pain, the humiliation, the despair—all of it seemed to roll off him. 

As if Tim were plastic.


End file.
